! WARNING : Dub-con ahead; no smut (yet) !

~I'll warn you guys when it begins~


June 30, 1945

How terrifying, the effects of Amortentia.

Professor Slughorn would tell you that it's the most powerful love potion; even "lifelong rivals" would fall prey to its insidious effects and find themselves in unconditional love with each other after taking it.

Merope Gaunt briefly acquired Tom Riddle Sr. with Amortentia, and Tom Marvolo Riddle wanted to use Amortentia to possess Harry.

This was a terrible and helpless tragedy; like the continuation of a curse through the homologous genes, the blood of greed transferred from mother to child, from generation to generation, repeating again and again without repentance.

Liquor's a solution that's easily mixed with other substances.

The turbidity and aroma of butterbeer could conceal the traces of Amortentia just so. With the mellow liquor, it'd roll down the throat smoothly, and absorb into the stomach and intestines seamlessly. As the blood circulates within the body, it'd gradually diverge and take effect, a naesthetizing the nerves and completely diffusing its effects into the human brain.

"Have another drink, Harry…" The handsome and tall Slytherin descendant raised his glass, his face masked in drunken delight.

With the mixture of alcohol and Amortentia, two substances that paralyze the nerves and enhance each other when merged, it'd be impossible for someone to extricate themselves.

"Alright." Harry submissively raised his cup, the alcohol having already clouded those pair of gem-like green eyes. Harry felt very unusual, yet he also never felt this sober before; his sobriety allowed him to definitively and distinctly understand who he was, and what he wanted. Or maybe he didn't really understand what he wanted; rather, he felt very strongly about what he liked.

Harry's sight was blurred, but when the outline of the child appeared over his retina, his heart seemed to be stuffed with fullness. It was all-encompassing, it made him want to step forward and embrace him tightly.

This was a wonderful feeling, very unlike the 'Liquid Luck' Felix Felicis; it was more practical, more exciting… Giving him uncontrollable joy and pleasure.

Tom? Oh, Tom…

Tom placed a quilt heavily over the bar counter, the sound of glass colliding interrupting the conversations of everyone else in the bar.

"Riddle? What's the matter with you?" The graduates who were acting raucous and messing around turned their heads, looking questioningly at their Head Boy who seemed a little different from usual. The Head Boy's usually impeccable appearance looked slightly messy, and although he was smiling like usual, his eyes looked bright and unable to find focus.

"Oi, Riddle, you're drunk." Abraxas, who was speaking with the younger Slytherin generations, quickly put down the cup in his hands, hurriedly walked to the Devil he placed his loyalty on, and faithfully and conscientiously performed his role to prevent others from seeing any traces of flaws. "How about I take you away for a bit to rest? You're drunk."

Malfoy spoke as he pulled the Slytherin by his wrist to take him upstairs from the bar, "There are safe and comfortable rooms upstairs prepared for the drunks."

"Harry…" Tom Riddle, who had always shown a calm and mature image, actually grabbed a corner of the man's clothes beside him, refusing to let go.

Oh, that man! They recognised him; Harry Potter, their former Professor. The graduates began to mutter.

Their former Professor was apparently also drunk as he laid over the bar counter; no matter how much Riddle pulled him he wouldn't wake.

The graduates who had never seen Riddle's such… Willful behaviour laughed good-naturedly.

"Alright, sometimes Slytherin's aren't that annoying," the Gryffindors laughed.

"Okay, okay, okay, Harry too." Malfoy shook his head helplessly as if he really was so, one hand supporting the swaying Devil, and the other hand directing the Saviour. Supporting the two drunks, Malfoy was also a bit begrudged.

He glanced at a gaggle of younger years gaping at their former professor before asking the one standing nearest to them, "Sorry, could you help me with Professor Potter?"

"I'd love to."

Malfoy showed a dazzling smile as gratitude; two men supported Harry and Tom, one at the front and one at the back, as they stepped onto the second floor.

"'Slytherins aren't that annoying'… Tom, you made the Gryffindors like you." Abraxas leaned close to the Slytherin with his head down, disguising his movements with his exaggerated and gorgeous platinum blond hair; keeping his voice down, he chuckled, "Lord, good acting."

The Slytherin descendant, who had his head hung down, looked up, his gloomy black eyes directly on Malfoy's gaze; the warning and threat in his line of sight were evident.

Shut up.

He wouldn't let the plan fail, and he absolutely wouldn't tolerate any factors that could induce failure.

"Senior Malfoy?" the unnamed student asked, looking about the small room.

"Let Mr Potter lie here." Abraxas looked at the two, limp on the bed, and smiled before he pushed the younger student out of the room, closed the door indifferently, and locked it neatly.

He sighed in relief before pulling off his neat bow tie and shrugged, leaving the second floor.

Now, his performative task was complete.

Next, would be his Lord's time to perform.

But there was no need to perform, really. Not for this part. Not for Tom.

Anyone who took Amortentia would be under the effects of the potion. In its imitation of "love", the person doused in the potion would fall into a heightened state of arousal and be lured into the false exhilaration of eros. Should the riverbed be above their heads and they were left to drown, even if they were being suffocated to death, they wouldn't be able to tell. All that would exist to them is the other person.

In the event that the effects of the potion were to disappear, all memories would be annihilated along with their lust and love; all their madness, hypocrisy and exposed flaws would not be remembered.

"Harry, wake up." Tom Riddle knelt on the bed as he looked down at the unsuspecting drunk man beside him, his dark eyes commanding.

Was he drunk? To the point of being unable to stand?

Those dark eyes, as if they had been washed by snow, revealed his cold mockery towards everyone.

Playing a drunkard; he had already honed his performance skills to perfection.

The Slytherin, who could no longer be called a teenager, reached out and slapped Harry on the side of his face, abruptly pulling him out of his sleep.

Amortentia was the Wizarding World's most powerful and most effective love potion; however, although its effects were known to be formidable, it could not create love out of thin air. What it brought was a strong sense of obsession.

But so what? He just wanted to see Harry Potter lose his principles and fall into crazy obsession with him.

It made him feel a vague sense of… Satisfaction, watching the young man be stripped of his dignity and conquered through his delusions and pleasure.

The thought made him feel a slow curling heat gathering in his stomach. Tom was excited.

Although the reaction was gradual, under the alcoholic catalyst, his five senses became extremely sensitive to external stimuli.

The sting on his face immediately made Harry feel a little more conscious.

He snorted a few times and, through the glasses propped on the bridge of his nose, saw the other young man's figure.

It was Tom.

The Amortentia accumulated in the Saviour's body began to quickly take effect as his heartbeat accelerated and spread its poison throughout his body; his thoughts felt muggy and viscous, hazy due to the effects of the potion. With his ability to reason halted, Harry felt confused and trapped, lured into temptation as he fell into an inextricable obsession.

"Tom…" Harry murmured, his plush red lips pulling into a smile as joy poured out from his chest. He held out his arm, urging the other party to fall into them, craving Tom's acceptance.

All of his thoughts started and ended with him. "Tom…"

"Tom, Tom, Tom…"

But like a babbling baby, he could only repeatedly murmur out the name.

Tom wasn't satisfied.

He'd seen people under the effects of Amortentia. No matter if they were male or female, had self-control or lacked self-control, they were all affected by the powerful potion. Their ugliest sides would often be revealed and they'd be reduced to begging for just a bit of attention, like a beast in heat desperately in need of sex, and continuously muttering disgustingly and hypocritically 'I love you' without any thought.

But Harry didn't act like that. He just looked at him intently, not taking any initiative to approach; although he wanted to pour out all his love, he was only willing to call out the other's name.

It seemed… Even under the catalysis of Amortentia, he subconsciously resisted the possibility of 'I love you'.

How could Tom Riddle tolerate this?

"Say you love me, Harry." The Slytherin gloomily looked at Harry.

He clearly refused to love, yet insatiably demanded it from others; as selfishly and greedily as the Devil himself.

"...Oh," Harry said blankly, biting back his tongue.

Didn't he love Tom? Of course, he loved him; just as he loved Sirius and accepted him as family.

Romantic love would eventually come infinitely closer to familial love, but familial love would never so easily cross the boundaries and be equated with romantic love.

Even the most powerful and effective Amortentia can't forcibly turn familial love completely into romantic love in such a short period of time. It was impossible.

And Tom didn't like that.

! START !

He grabbed at Harry's face, squeezing tightly at his chin, long fingers pressing to the point of bruising. Harry exhaled, chest heaving and in pain.

Peeking from between his teeth, Harry's tongue was exposed and visible, vulnerable, and Tom used this as an invitation to bite into him further, desperately pushing his firm lips on the smaller man below him, the difference in body temperature causing Harry to shiver.

Tom loomed over Harry, his torso completely covering Harry's peripherals. Tom, Tom, Tom. Tom was all he could see. This posture greatly satisfied the Slytherin's abnormal desire for control. In a tangle of wet gasps and the slide of soft lips, Tom's tongue urged itself further inside Harry's mouth, unable to separate itself, all-consuming. He bit Harry's lips; pulling, licking, and turning his head over to bite his neck with his sharp teeth, feeling satisfaction at the gasp that emanated from the smaller body below him.

Tom was relentless in his efforts, leaving teeth marks and bruises in his wake, worrying Harry's bottom lip to a vibrant red, just shy of bleeding.

The feeling of saliva and the hot slide of tongue was like a signal; clear as a bell, the effects of Amortentia deposited in the Saviour's body became potent, visible.

When rid of his five senses, the only things left were the heat and ecstasy surging from the places of contact, brought upon by the potion's effect.

Driven by the potion, Harry arched his neck higher; or perhaps it was his instinctual response after a lapse in consciousness. This movement revealed the vulnerable column of his throat; defenseless and exposed to the Slytherin.

Tom felt high. Harry felt like he was unraveling in his very hands, submitting to him.

The small concession of Harry exposing his throat made the Slytherin more excited. He felt his blood begin to boil in arousal, a liquid fire running through his limbs. A hungering heat pooled in his lower abdomen, making him restless.

Harry, too, was shifting anxiously, seeking out friction.

With the potion's effects, his desire for skin contact had gradually peaked until it felt almost unbearable. He longed to be close to Tom's skin; as if that could alleviate the desire clouding his head.

His clothes were left wide open, all buttons snapped off from the Slytherin's actions, and the corner of his shirt hung down along his slightly protruding ribs, revealing beautiful muscular lines that were neither delicate nor rugged. Tom couldn't help but reach out, sliding his large cool palm along Harry's overheated skin.

He wanted to mark them with a pinch of their fingers: he wanted to mark Harry as his.

The more Harry's skin was exposed, the greedier he felt.

He wanted more.

Men were different from women after all.

Harry turned over, grasped the wrist of the young man taller than him by a head, and reversed their positions, straddling Tom's clothed erection.

Bearing down on a slow grind, Harry's full red lips fell slack, his eyes half-lidded in his desire.

"Tom…"

The Slytherin's eyes were red in response, his hips twitching up as he growled. The repressed lust in his irises were almost substantial; the desire to conquer, control, and possess were mixed together, presenting a gorgeousness not even the original Seven Deadly Sins could compare. He felt the strength around his wrist and looked at the young man straddling his waist, blood flowing increasingly to the cock under his body.

See, the potion's effect has begun!

See, even Harry Potter cannot help but finally succumb to the temptation of Amortentia!

Tom Riddle thought maliciously, waiting - waiting for his dearest, beloved 'father' to expose his most beautiful, lustful expression.

"I…" Harry hesitated in his confusion, still holding back the words. Even in his subconscious, Harry could feel the sentence was a switch, some line that once crossed, couldn't be overturned.

Harry frowned slightly, and impatiently pulled at the Slytherin's tight-fitting buckle. They faced each other silently as if acknowledging that they were opposites in everything but this passion they shared.

Instinctively, Harry pressed their exposed torsos together, sighing contentedly as they fell into a perfect fit, his head nestled under the crook of Tom's jaw. His abdomen fell onto the other's; their stuttering hungry movements were neither elegant nor beautiful, but the sounds coming out of their lips were at least honest. It wasn't perfect, but it held a certain appeal, bewitching in their snake-like movements flirtation.

When Tom straightened up, pulling the friction away from their hips, Harry felt a little irritated, but he still circled his arms around the young man's shoulders gently. Harry rested his chin on the young man's sturdy shoulders, simply satisfied with the skin-to-skin contact. "...Don't move, Tom," he sighed, his breath tickling the sensitive flesh behind Tom's ear.

The young man shivered in response.

No, Tom couldn't not move.


P.S. The title's supposed to be 'The Most Powerful, Most Effective Love Potion', but it was too long for FF I guess, so I shortened it.